Casualties of Appetite
by Lily of the Lake
Summary: "Love is like handing someone a gun, having them point it at your heart, and trusting them to never pull the trigger." -Michael Gardner. Post Season 2 The Prison . Daryl/OC.
1. Chapter 1: Spark

Casualties of Appetite  
Chapter 1: Spark

**Hello all! Here's my first official fanfic. This will be based in both the Comic book as well as the television show. Of course season 3 isn't out yet but after watching the season 2 finale it's pretty obvious that they are returning, at least somewhat, to the original comic book story. This storyline will take place in the prison, only really having to go on the comics, but the characters in the show (Daryl even existing, Dale's death…etc…) will differ from the comic book. Enjoy!**  
**All characters belong to their respective owners.**

She was unrecognizable; her wrists were bound and the skin near the unforgiving silver cuffs had developed numbers of wounds, some open and radiating heat, others scabbed; probably infected. She did not worry about her wrists any longer for she could not feel them. She was strung up, her hands in a crucifix- like position; there was enough give in the chains connected each cuff that she could lean against the nearest wall and rest her arms some, but not nearly enough to be comfortable.

She couldn't see. Her eyes worked just fine but the room was so void of light her eyes were unable to adjust. She shifted her head to the side and let out a pitiful groan; coming out of a sleep induced by abuse. Her body had been raided, repeatedly like some awful Nordic pillage.

The room smelled of piss and mold. Her captor had placed a small pot in the corner of the room within her space that she was supposed to relive herself over. During the beginning she was able to make it over there but anymore, on her diet of bread and water she had little strength and her dreams would often cause her to soil herself in her sleep. She tried her best not to do this as she was hit harder when she dirtied her "product" and he had to clean her before use.

A sliver of light shined on her face, she grimaced like she was a vampire and it was burning her skin. She was trained like a dog: light was a bad thing. She went to a place, deep and distinct in her mind; a place before the world ended, before she watched all that she cared for, person by person, perish before her eyes.

_I am sitting under a tree on an overcast and warm day, but not too warm. I've got a book on my lap that I'm reading. It's a very good book. The flowers are in full bloom and the air smells of roses. I can see my sister knitting on the porch of the large house not too far away. She smiles and waves then continues to knit. _

He is coming.

_I look in the distance and see my parents driving up in their car, just getting back home from a date night. They seem to be laughing and smiling about something._

He is coming.

_I feel the soft breeze from the west twirl around me and blow through my hair. A small white cat trots over to my side and purrs. The petite cat belongs to me; her name is Serenity. She nuzzles up to my side and rubs her head on my hand. I can feel the vibration of her purring on my leg. I begin to pet her._

He.

_She is soft._

Is.

_Her fur is warm._

"What the hell is going on in here?" An unfamiliar male voice says at the door.  
"Is she alive?" Another man asks, pointing a flashlight to the cuffed woman.  
"Oh my god," A female voice says in a hushed tone.

She looks up toward the door but the light is too bright and her eyes cannot make out details. She can see three people in shadow. As she tries to make sense of what is happening the three figures move into the room.

"Daryl, is she alive?" The female voice asks.

One of the male figures gets close to her face; she can feel his breath. He places his hand to her forehead as a mother would to check their child's temperature.

"She's warm," The male declares near her ear; his voice drenched in a Southern accent. His voice is rough yet soothing, a sweet contradiction.

"You should check her for bites, Daryl," the other male voice says.

"So I'm the bite checker now?" The man responds.

"She looks like she's about to turn," The female voice states, "Glenn, I've got a really bad feeling. Like something bad's gonna happen," Her southern drawl is almost as thick as the man closest to her.

"Don't worry, Maggie. I'm here." The other male says; his voice void of any particular accent.

The southern man scoffs under his breath, "Rick had to pair me off with the newlyweds."

She couldn't think of what to say, she wanted desperately for them to know she was still alive but her mouth was so dry and her throat so cracked that she didn't know whether or not she'd be able to speak.

The southern man sighs and moves in even closer to the cuffed girl, "Well she ain't tryin' to bite me none."

She hears a gun cock further away from her, "Just in case," the male voice reassures. She hears his footsteps come closer to her and assumes the gun is pointed at her. The southern man puts his hand gently on her neck and wraps around; feeling softly for wounds. He moves his hands down her collar bone and over each shoulder and arm.

"Her wrists are pretty fucked up though," The southern man says stopping at them, "These cuffs are too tight."

He continues wrapping his hands around her back. The sensation sends tingles up and down her spine; she hasn't been touched softly in a long time. He draws his fingers across her hips and down her legs, rounding her feet.

"I don't feel no bites," He says.

"You didn't check her…" The man trails off nervously, "You know… her other parts"

"Glenn, I ain't touching her there. Why don't your girlfriend do that, not my department." The man stands up and takes a few steps back. She hears the woman step forward, looking at the poor pitiful creature lying on the ground. She tugs at her dirtied dress and reaches softly down, fumbling nervously around, almost medically. Her hands shake as she searches for a gaping wound somewhere on her intimate elements. The cuffed girl feels air rush in between her legs as the strange woman looks around.

She hears a stifled gasp as her dress drops, "Dear lord," She says.

"What?" The southern man inquires.

"Her upper thighs…" She trails off.

"She got bit there?" The other man asks.

"No," The woman responds, "I've never seen bruises like that. She's black and blue all the way up."

"So she ain't bit then?" The southern man asks.

"No," She responds.

"We should take her to your dad, Maggie." The other man states, "He'll be able to help her. Daryl, get her left hand and I'll get her right."

"Well yes sir." The man spits back sarcastically.

She feels warm hands wrap around her arms and they struggle to pull her from the grasps of her bonds.

"Goddammit!" The southern man exclaims, "Glenn, stop. We gotta get her outta the cuffs before we can move her," he pauses for a moment, "Hey girlie, you got a bobby pin in that hair of yours."

"No," She scoffs.

"Gimmie your axe then," the man walks over and retrieves it, "All right stand back. I'm gonna need some room."

The axe makes a loud swoosh as it cuts the air and then down to the chains. They do not break on the first strike.

"Careful!" the woman exclaims, "Don't break her arm."

The man stops for a second and shoots her daggers with his eyes, "Honey, if anyone here's gonna be doin' this you best be glad it's me. I'm the only son of a bitch around here with decent aim."

"Not true," The woman mumbles under her breath.

He swings again with a loud grunt, this time warping the chain enough to allow it to break, "See," He says, "Same fucking place every time."

The woman rolls her eyes. He rests the axe to the floor and unhooks the twisted chain, in result the cuffed woman begins to crash to the floor. His body pumps full of adrenaline and he catches her before her head hits the ground; his arms wrapped around her she is enveloped in his scent. It unravels her senses, sending her hormones kicking into frenzy. Her eyes come into focus on his arms; his muscles are flexed and dirty. The woman, now lying in the southern man's arms, tries to muster up strength to speak to him, to thank him.

"Glenn, get the other arm," The man says, she can hear his heartbeat.

She hears another clang and her other arm is freed. The southern man looks down at the wounded creature in his arms. He feels pity for her; sorrow. He had never seen a woman, another person even, treated this way and even though he was hardened, even before the world's end, he felt a melting inside of himself. He felt as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest. Images of his brother flashed through his mind when he was chained to a roof on a building filled with the undead and left to rot. This girl paralleled his brother's situation, left to die. The only difference was this girl didn't have a hand saw nearby to mutilate but ultimately free herself. If he was capable of crying for this poor girl, he would. The man pushed a small cluster of hair, covered in sweat, from her face. '_Don't you do this Daryl_,' he thought, '_She's just some girl_.' His heart ached for her.

The woman in his arms tried to move but her body was limp and unresponsive. She breathed in as deeply as she could, "Thank you," her words came out in a whisper.

"What?" The man asked leaning in his ear to her mouth.

"Thank you," She repeated as loud as she could but it was still only a whisper.

He was taken aback. He usually had some witty comeback but in this case he had no words formed that he could speak. 'You're welcome' is the proper response to a 'thank you' but that didn't seem right to him in this situation.

"We'll get you healed up in no time," he forced a smile, something she had not seen for what seemed like years. "You got a name?" He asked softly.

His voice was so comforting; she wanted him to keep speaking. He was captivated by her sheer will to survive.

She parted her lips, readying to form her name when the blood began to drain from her head and the light began to close in her vision on the corners. She faded away in his arms back into a sleep, this time induced by the feeling of safety. She was at peace in this stranger's arms.

"Let's get her to Herschel," The man said, standing up with the girl in his arms, "Now."


	2. Chapter 2: Escaping the Chill

Chapter 2: Escaping the Chill

**Hey everyone! Thanks all for the warm reviews and all the follows/favorites. I hope you guys are having as much fun reading this as I am writing it. Expect Chapter 3 with in 7-10 days if not sooner. Also if you see some minor errors or weird sentence structures that don't make sense, please let me know (pm) and I'll fix it. I've sifted through this chapter a few times and hopefully I've caught everything but a fresh pair of eyes never hurts! Thank you and Enjoy!**

Daryl hurried down the hallways, winding in and out, carefully carrying the limp girl in his arms.  
Maggie sprinted in front of him swinging open doors to allow them to get back to C-block faster. Glenn was trailing behind, making sure no walkers came stumbling about, biting at their ankles.

"She breathin'?" Maggie gasped nearly out of breath swinging the next door open.

Daryl darted his eyes toward the girl in his arms, "I can't tell," he responded.

"We're almost there," Glenn said from behind.

The group continued to sprint but only slowed their pace when a familiar groan came down the hallway; a walker had stumbled out into their direct path. Glenn swung at it with Maggie's axe, severing the head from the body. The group rushed to the end of the hallway and Daryl met with the final door to C-block, kicking it in as the rest filed in, Glenn secured the door behind them.

"Dad!" Maggie shouted in a panic, "Dad?"

"Herschel!" Daryl yelled.

A worn old man stepped out of one of the cells at the end of the hallway, "What's going on?"

Daryl lifted the girl up an inch as to motion to her, "She needs to be-"

"Bring her in!" Herschel interrupted.

He rushed into the cell that Herschel came from, "Glenn, Maggie, one of you, clear the bed," Daryl huffed.

Maggie threw her arms across the sheets and tossed them off along with a few books, exposing a bare mattress. Daryl slowly leaned into the bed with the girl still firmly in his arms. He descended her body down slowly as she rustled around, not sure where she was. As her skin made contact with the mattress, her eyes fluttered open. She found her hands untied and could not remember leaving her room. Her instincts kicked in as she weakly raised her hands up to the stranger whose arms were still wrapped around her. Her hands met his throat and she began to press in her fingers. She couldn't see in the bright light that surrounded her but could only hear the reaction from the man; she was choking him.

"Get…her…off," The man struggled to speak.

She could hear two, maybe three other people struggling to release her grip; she then knew she wasn't choking who she wanted. These were strangers, people only trying to help. She immediately released her fingers.

"Crazy bitch!" Daryl sputtered taking a few steps backwards.

"I'm…" She struggled to speak, "Sorry…" She wasn't sure if anyone could even hear her.

Herschel began to move about her, checking for wounds, "Maggie, the morphine."

Maggie hurried to a drawer and rummaged through its contents, her hands shaking, "Here," She said handing the syringe to her father. He tapped a vein on the girl and plunged the needle in, injecting only half.

"If she's hurting later we can use what's left in this one," Herschel said, placing the syringe on the counter top, "That should do it for now."

Daryl rubbed his neck where the girl had lashed out at him; he was beginning to feel like she might have left a mark.

"She thought you were trying to hurt her," Glenn said to Daryl, "I'm sure she didn't mean any-"

"Of course she didn't," Daryl scowled and dropped his hand down from his neck; not breaking focus on the girl falling into a morphine-induced sleep. The sunlight was thick in the C-block, making it nearly impossible not to squint; he could see her better in this light. She had red hair and pale skin; he couldn't figure out if her skin tone was natural or if she'd just been in that room too long. He wanted desperately to be angry at this girl but he only knew he would've done the same thing in her given situation. Even though she had just tried to choke him, he still felt undeniably sorry for her.

"Are you okay?" Maggie asked, snapping Daryl from his thoughts.

"Yeah," Daryl said shifting his crossbow higher up on his shoulder, "It just seems that I always get bit in the ass when I try and help you people," He couldn't take being in the same room with this girl anymore with his thoughts firing off left and right. He needed to be alone. He turned around and began to walk to his room.

"Where are you going?" Glenn asked.

Daryl stopped for a moment, his back turned to them. He turned his head to the side, not moving his body, "Somewhere else." He continued his pace down the hallway listening to the noise of medical equipment and Herschel's voice fade the further he got. He found his room and slid the door open, plopping down his crossbow. Daryl walked to the small warped mirror and looked at himself, noticing red marks forming where her fingers had been. '_They'll fade quick_' he thought to himself. He slumped into his bed and found himself starring up at the ceiling. He let his heavy eyelids succumb to gravity only to find images of the red headed girl burned into them.

"Dammit," He mumbled to himself with a sigh.

His eyes were burning but the more he tried to rest them the more he thought of her, tied up and left to die. '_She'll be fine' _he reassured himself and flipped over to his side. It seemed like he had only drifted off for a moment when Lori bustled into his room.

"Daryl," Lori said with a sense of urgency, "That girl," She leaned up against the door frame as Daryl sat up in his bed.

"What about her?" he asked with a false tone of disinterest. He could see by the fading sunlight that he had slept for a couple of hours.

"She's awake," Lori breathed in, "She wants to talk to you."

"Me?" Daryl asked beginning to stretch his arms up, "She need more practice with a choke-hold?"

Lori stood there unamused, "C'mon."

"Since when do I take orders from you?" Daryl said leaning his head against the wall beside his bed.

Lori sighed, trying to figure out something to say, "Please, Daryl. We can't get her to make any sense. Glenn and Maggie said that she spoke a few words to you so maybe you could get her to talk again."

Daryl sat up, remembering the words she had whispered to him as he cradled her body in the cell.

"What did she say to you anyway?" Lori asked crossing her arms.

Daryl looked down at his dirtied hands, covered in grime and traces of her blood. He stood up and swung his crossbow over his shoulder, "Ain't important."

Lori moved her head to the side and raised her eyebrows; by her silent look, he knew she would not leave him in peace until he told her what the girl had whispered.

Daryl sighed, "She said 'thank you', happy?"

Lori smiled and moved away to let Daryl pass. He rolled his eyes, "I'm only going down there 'cause I wanna. Not 'cause you told me to, let's get that straight."

Lori threw her hands up with her palms facing outward, "By all means. I wasn't even here."

Daryl hurried by her down the hallway, passing cell after cell to get back to the girl. He couldn't get her off his mind. He wanted to know everything he could about her. He wanted to know her name and how old she was but above all else he wanted to know what sick fuck would hurt someone like her, someone so… '_Daryl, stop right there; she's just some girl."_His mind reminded him, stopping any further thoughts in their tracks. He arrived at the cell where a crowd had formed. Carol was standing off to the right of the cell, as were Maggie and Glenn, a look of worry I their eyes. T-dog stood off to the left, biting the skin off around his fingernails.

"Anybody watching the place?" Daryl asked to the group around him.

"Michonne and Andrea," T-dog responded.

Daryl scoffed and pushed past the group of people gawking to find Rick and Herschel inside.

He looked to Herschel, "Well?" Daryl asked.

"She'll be okay," He answered, "She's got some healing to do first."

"We're trying to figure out who did this to her, Daryl," Rick said, "We haven't been able to get a straight word from her today."

"And you think I'll be able to?" Daryl asked.

Rick nodded, "She spoke to you earlier."

"Why's it so important that we find out now?" Daryl asked, setting his crossbow down.

"Because," Rick lowered his voice, "She ain't the only woman here. And since she was still alive when you found her means whoever did this had to have been back to check on her at least three days before today. Body can't go that much longer without any water."

"I knew that," Daryl said walking over to her bedside, "So I find out who did it, we get the bastard and then what?"

"Well, we think we know who did it but we're not sure. He's locked up in his cell right now" Rick ran his hands over his hair, "But once she tells us who did it we'll just wait, take a vote on what to do."

"Like Randall?" Daryl asked, "That went over real nice." Daryl looked to the girl then back to Rick, "The girl gets to decide what we do with him."

Rick sat still for a moment, fixing his gaze on the broken creature barely clinging to consciousness. He then let out a feeble nod. Daryl felt a small pressure on his wrist; he turned to see the girl with her eyes open, looking up at him. She tried stepping her fingers up his arm as if to pull him closer to her. Daryl kneeled down beside her and looked into her eyes. This whole time he could never truly see her eyes let alone the color, but now he could see they were brilliant green.

"How do ya' do?" Daryl muttered, her fingers still gently wrapped around his wrist. He gritted his teeth, he was never much one for introductions, "I'm Daryl. You never told me your name, passed out before you could." He ran his free hand across his forehead, pushing the few beads of sweat from his brow.

The girl smiled weakly and lifted her hand toward his neck. Daryl flinched remembering last time when she tried to choke him. She lowered her arm down, "I'm sorry." She could manage an audible whisper now.

Daryl broke his gaze with her for a moment and let a scowl sink into his skin. Her eyes had finally adjusted and she could at last see her white knight. He didn't seem like much at first. His face was gruff, covered in bristle-like hairs. She could imagine them scratching her face if she would try to kiss his cheek. His hair was blond and matted from a mixture of dirt and sweat, turning it a darker brown. His whole body was covered in the rough outdoors. His eyes though, his eyes were a crystal blue, like a cool stream on a hot summer day. If it were possible, she could get lost in his eyes.

"You saved me," She said softly, placing her hand on his, "I'm in your debt."

"Yeah, whatever," He responded nonchalantly. He looked back to Rick who was urging him with his eyes to continue to interview her for information. Daryl sighed, "So what's your name?"

She smiled, "Naomi."

"How old are you, Naomi?" Rick asked.

"Twenty-three," The girl looked around, able to process more information around her, "Can I sit up?" She asked, her voice coming back, "Is that okay?"

Herschel nodded, "Yes, honey, go ahead."

Naomi pressed her hands down into the sheets, trying to pull her body weight up. She struggled unaware until that moment how weak she truly was. Daryl put her arms around her shoulders and gave her leverage to sit up. She then saw Rick and Herschel in full view as well as the large congregation outside of her door; Naomi nervously looked around, searching for her captor's face. She curled her knees up to her chest, trying to calm a panic attack; her breathing became rapid and uneven.

"Are you okay?" Rick asked her.

"He's not out there is he?" She asked.

"Who?" Daryl responded.

She was frazzled still; her panic was starting to slowly overcome her. She started to go back to her place, "The big man," she was rocking back and forth, "Is he out there?"

Daryl could see her mentally unwrapping before his eyes. He had been there before, completely lost in his mind. He felt sympathy for this girl and he did what he would have wanted done to himself. He wrapped his arms around her and steadied her trembling, "You're safe here."

She looked up into his crystal blues and thought, maybe this time, this one, she could trust.

_It is warm outside, it smells like summer. I can hear the crickets squeaking away; playing their folk songs. A breeze comes through cooling off the humid night. I am looking up at the stars, they are very bright tonight._

"Naomi," Daryl shook her, "She's losing it."

_The stars…_

"Naomi," Rick said firmly.

Daryl rattled her with force, causing her to jolt from her mind.

"What?" She said, coming to reality.

Daryl placed his hands around the contours of her face, his thumbs resting on her jaw, "What does he look like?" He asked.

Naomi opened her mouth, "He-"

Just as she began to speak she was cut off but a blood curdling scream coming from the courtyard.

Rick stood up with his gun drawn as everyone turned to look out the window, "Andrea…"


	3. Chapter 3: Delirium

Chapter 3: Delirium  
**Hello everyone! My apologies for not updating sooner**, **this chapter ended up being way  
longer than the first two (twice as long to be exact) and I couldn't find a good place to break it up into smaller sections because it would unfortunately ruin the flow. So here is Chapter 3, Enjoy and don't forget to review, I love reading what you guys think! : )  
Rated M: language, violence, adult themes and content.  
All characters belong to their respective owners. **

Naomi saw Rick from her bed with his gun parallel to his face; he was steady and focused. His free arm was raised signaling a halt from the group; it would not be smart to run out into the courtyard screaming with guns blazing and no clear idea of the situation at hand. The group was connected through the same induced levels of adrenaline pumping into their veins. Daryl stood up, readying his crossbow in one rehearsed motion. Naomi sat up, watching the group on high alert, trying to see past the people crowding the window. She was scared; her life had been filled with only horrors until she was rescued by blue eyes. She thought all would be well now, but she was wrong.

Another scream echoed through the prison, "Get off me," The woman shrieked outside as the reverb disjointedly bounced through the barren walls. Rick signaled Carol to crouch down into the cell that Naomi laid in, getting down to the ground as quietly as possible. Everyone else besides Carol was armed and loaded, waiting for Rick's hand to motion forward. It seemed like hours, but only a few seconds passed before Rick signaled 'go'. Daryl crouched down to Naomi and sent a nod to Carol, "Stay here," He whispered to Naomi, "Same goes for you." Carol nodded in response. Daryl shared one final gaze with Naomi, '_damn, she's beautiful_' he thought before he jogged to flank the group.

Naomi heard the door swing open outside and listened intently to the commotion and muffled voices. She could hear Rick yell, "Put her down or we'll shoot," and several other stifled commands. She then realized this was not the undead they were talking to, unless they were crazy. She stood from her bed, her legs barely holding her weight. Naomi struggled to find a balance like a newborn horse. She felt nice standing; she hadn't used her legs fully in what seemed like centuries.

"Get down," The huddled woman whispered through her teeth.

Naomi continued to attempt her feet at walking, merely ignoring the woman who did not press the issue at the moment. She took one awkward step after another to the window, swinging her matted length of red hair down her back so her ears would be more apt to listen. She met the windowsill with her hands holding her up for support; glancing down at her wrists, she remembered what the man with the crossbow had said when he found her, '_my wrists __are__ really fucked up_.' There were traces of blood seeping through the newly white wrapped gauze around them. She rubbed her right wrist with her left hand and moved her eyes to the scene outside, having an awful time adjusting to the fading daylight.

Then she saw him; the bastard. Her captor was being held to the ground on his stomach by Daryl and Rick and their respective choice weapons.

"Don't you fucking move, asshole," Daryl spat at the man.

He was pathetic looking in this light, her captor. He was pudgy, pale, and well over his prime; his hair balding at the top. He was in a bright orange jumpsuit and his glasses were warped and dirty as the rest of him. Naomi felt a burning rage building inside of her; something she hadn't been able to feel in so long. She wanted to see this bastard die and she wanted to kill him.

Naomi walked precisely into her cell, fueled by revulsion, looking for not a gun, no she didn't want him to go quickly, she was looking for a blunt object. Naomi found a spare nightstick and a large two by four, nails sticking out of the splintered wood.

"What are you doing?" Hissed Carol.

Naomi strapped a belt around the waist of her tarnished white dress and thrust the nightstick into an open compartment, "Fighting back," Naomi said with vendetta in her eyes.

"Don't go out there. Daryl told us-"

"Don't worry about me," Naomi said walking out of the cell listening to the woman's pleading trailing behind her. Naomi walked down the corridors finding the door to the courtyard and swung it open. The sun took her back momentarily but now she could only see red. Rick was the first to notice the girl.

"Whoa!" He yelled, "Get back up to your room you need to-"

"Shut up," Naomi said, cutting him off. She looked to her right and saw the woman that was screaming earlier, crouched down to the dirt and bleeding from her cheek. The balding man had attempted to widen her smile by cutting her face open.

Naomi walked with vigor over to Daryl and Rick standing over the bald man.

"Just wait a second," Rick said holding his hand out.

Naomi knocked his hand away from her face and Daryl placed his hand on Rick's shoulder. No words were spoken as Daryl slowly led Rick a few steps back from the man to give Naomi some room. Carol burst through the door stopping at the frame to watch. She wanted desperately to say something but no words came to her mind.

Naomi kicked the man on the ground, lightly at first. She wanted him to know it was her.  
" Please, don't. I'm sor…" the bald man trailed off as he met the rage in the girl's eyes.

"Please?" Naomi said wielding her two by four, "Don't?" She stepped back readying her weapon, "You're sorry!" She spat the words at him like venom. The man was quivering.

"You fucked with the wrong girl," Naomi said finding a new brute-like strength and swung her weapon down onto his neck. The man cried out in pain. Naomi walked slowly around him thoroughly enjoying all the screams he admitted, "I'm not going to kill you," She said.

"Thank you, Thank you," the man whimpered.

"No, no," She leaned in, "What I'm going to do is much worse." She said wickedly.

The man stopped for a moment, unsure of what would happen next. Naomi looked over at Andrea, her eyes full of worry. She decided to make up for her first.

"Daryl," Naomi said as a command.

"Yeah?" He asked, unsure.

"Do you have a knife on you?" She asked turning to look at him.

Daryl nodded and walked to her cautiously, handing over his buck knife. He was on some level excited to see what she had planned.

"Thank you," Naomi said taking it as Daryl stood near her, crossbow still at the ready.

Naomi leaned down to the quivering man, hovering above him. She drew the knife in front of his face, "This… is for that woman right over there," She said pointing her knife to Andrea then dragging the blade across his cheek. He yelled in pain as the blood poured, "This is for my sister," She said stabbing the knife into the back of his leg, pounding it in deeper with her fist. He screamed louder.

"And this…" She smiled readying her nightstick and ripping the back of his jumpsuit open, "this is for what you did to me." She forced the nightstick far up his back causing him to shriek so loud she was sure anything that was within five miles could hear.

"You like that, huh?" She smiled, "Feel good?" She yelled. She picked up the two by four and began to let her anger out on his body, thrashing blindly with the weapon; the nails ripping out bits of flesh.

Daryl tried to swallow the hard knot that had formed in his throat. He had never seen so much anger from a woman before. Seeing firsthand what this man had done, he didn't think that what she was doing was undeserved; he couldn't think of a better way to punish the man then what she was doing. Daryl looked around seeing that the group was worried about this girl. Daryl moved his eyes back to her, seeing that she had gone through enough. He laid his crossbow down and approached the girl whose steam was wearing off.

"Naomi, I think that's enough," Daryl said grabbing her right arm on the upswing. The girl dropped the two by four and lost it completely, turning from rage into tears. He grabbed her by the waist and moved her away from the man who was lying there unconscious. He dragged her exhausted body to where he had set his crossbow in the dirt and collapsed to the ground with the girl; her lying in his lap. He brushed back her hair and wrapped around her, shading her from the piercing eyes of everyone around. He was worried for this girl now, he was worried that Rick would try to shoot her, thinking she was a danger to the group. He hoped everyone could see that this girl had been through too much and her actions only were caused by what the man had done.

Rick walked to Daryl's side and shot him a look. "She's been through a lot," Daryl said to Rick softly, "I know what you're thinking but I would've done the same thing to him if I had gotten the chance so you might as well shoot me then, too."

Rick wrinkled his forehead and shook his head, "I wasn't going to... I was just thinking we might need to keep an eye on her for a while, you know. She might not be safe by herself."

"I'll watch her," Daryl said. He couldn't bear for anyone to kill this poor girl and he could make sure that they didn't.

Rick nodded, "We'll take shifts."

"I've got the first three," Daryl said, brushing the girl's hair softly trying to calm her heaving cries, "What do we do with him?"

The group looked to the man laying there unconscious.

"I say we hang him," Rick said, raising his voice loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Just then the man began to twitch, his muscles coming back to life. He raised his hands up and lifted his face, looking around at the group. He had turned faster than anyone had seen, this shocked everyone who was cognitive enough to watch. The man turned, smelling Daryl and Naomi closest to him. He moved his body slowly towards them, reaching out not but feet away, trying to get them but could not because his leg was pinned to the ground with the knife. Naomi lifted her head, her tears quieted and looked at him in the eyes, 'did I kill him?' she thought.

Rick raised his gun, ready to shoot the turned man.

"No," Andrea said from across the yard. She stood to her feet and walked over to the corpse with her hand holding her bleeding cheek. She snarled and dripped some blood down to the dirt making the newly undead man go into a frenzy.

"You like that?" She said coldly as she pressed her gun to the back of his head and shot, watching all remnants of life escape his body.

Naomi's cries had quieted and the group was hushed, all that could be heard were the groans of the straggling undead surrounding the fences. Everyone stood, numbed by what had just happened, all of them fraught with their morality.

"I wish Dale was still here," Glenn whispered to Maggie, "He'd know what to do."

"There's nothing to know," Maggie responded, "Problem's fixed."

"Did you not just see-"

"Yeah," Maggie interrupted, "That bastard deserved every second of what he got and more."

"But-"

"You didn't see her, Glenn, not the way I did," Maggie said forcefully, " You didn't see what he did to her under that dress," She turned away towards the door, "C'mon Carol," Maggie said, placing her arm on Carol's shoulder.

Carol was more bewildered than anyone there; she didn't know whether to cry or agree. She felt sorrow for the man, and yet at the same time she felt Naomi was validated in her actions. She watched Daryl holding Naomi the same way he held her when she saw Sophia for the last time. Daryl shot a look up to Carol, feeling her focus on him, of wanting to be left alone. She felt an emotion she hadn't felt since before the world had ended; jealousy. Carol clenched her jaw and watched Daryl break focus then caved into Maggie's wishes, passing through the doorway into the prison.

Andrea leaned down to the twice dead man and removed the knife pinning his leg to the ground. She wiped the blade smoothly onto his jumpsuit and walked to Daryl huddling the broken girl on the ground.

"Here," Andrea said handing Daryl back his knife, hilt first. Daryl reached his hand upwards as Andrea placed the knife in his hands kneeling down to their level. She looked at girl on the ground and wanted to say something, anything, to make her feel less guilty. This overwhelmed girl reminded her of her sister, Amy. She wanted to tell her but her mind prompted her that this was not the appropriate time.

"Thank you," Andrea said to the girl brushing hair from her face with her cleaner hand, "I mean it," She paused for a moment, not knowing what to say next, "I'm Andrea." She thought reaching for something.

The girl was quiet. She did not want to speak nor did she have strength to form any cognitive sentences. Daryl looked to the girl then back to Andrea.

"Her name is Naomi," Daryl spoke for the girl, "You should probably get Herschel to fix you up."

Herschel walked over to the small group and placed his arm on Andrea's shoulder, "C'mon, you'll need some stitches for that," Herschel began to lead her away to the designated hospital room. Andrea knew there was something else she needed to say to Naomi but she couldn't figure out what it was exactly. She furrowed her brow and continued along with Herschel, Glenn following behind.

"So, Rick," T-dog said leaning against a wall, "What should we do with the body?"

Rick looked down to the newly dead body of a prison inmate he had been introduced to by the name of Thomas. The cogs in his mind were having difficulty turning at this point and he didn't have an answer straight away.

"Well, we need to move it," Rick began, "How about we take it to the burning area and prep it tomorrow. It's gonna get dark here soon."

T-dog nodded as he and Rick fastened their weapons and swiftly moved the body off the grounds in one aligned motion. Naomi watched the two men carry the bald man around the exterior of the building. She thought to herself that she should be happy at this point. He was no longer alive and therefore no longer a threat. She felt safe finally, lying in this man's arms, but she still felt guilty and almost sad. She couldn't shake the thought that she had killed this man herself, she had to have done it and that made her feel as she was on the same level that he was.

"You didn't kill him," Daryl said softly to the girl, her thoughts were so clear on her face that it was almost like they were tattooed there.

Naomi looked up at him in wonder, "How did you know what I was thinking?"

Daryl smirked, "You're easy to read," He scratched the back of his head, "Well at least right now you are."

Naomi looked to the spot where the man had laid; there still remained an imprint in the dirt of his body as well as the footprints, and the blood. There was too much blood.

"By the time you got to him he already had been knocked around by me and Rick," Daryl looked at the blood, "He probably bled out from one of the first wounds he got. He was pretty much dead by the time you started wailing on him with that two by four."

The word choice of 'wailing' caused a small stifled smile to escape from Naomi.

"It'll be okay," Daryl said, taking this opportunity of light to reinforce the mood, "You're safe now."

Naomi looked up to Daryl, his arms were still wrapped around her, protecting her. She was puzzled as to why this man was defending her. She ran through a list of explanations in her mind trying to see if one matched to the look in his eyes. The only one that made any sort of sense to her was that he wanted her for himself, like the bald man. Her stomach turned, the thought of her being a sex slave again made her uneasy. She reasoned to herself that it would be a better setup this time if she belonged to this man. She found him a hundred times more attractive and he didn't seem like he would chain her up, she'd be able to move about and he'd take good care of her. She could see that this man would feed her better and she could imagine him being less rough with her body. She settled into the idea of belonging to him, giving him her body in return for freedom and protection would be a fair trade off in her mind.

"We should get you laid back down," he said, "You need to heal up, Naomi."

He did bother addressing her by name, this would be a better set up than the last, she thought; fully giving into the idea. Naomi nodded, realizing that this might be her clue to service him once they got back to a room, then she could rest some. He swung his crossbow on his shoulder and then carefully placed his arms under hers to help her up. He wanted to be as gentle as possible with her; she was still very wounded and he didn't want to add any pain if he could help it. She smiled faintly up at him as he arranged his hands in a respectable fashion. He paused for a moment and looked at her, returning the smile; fainter than hers.

"Ready?" He asked, "On three…"

She nodded and placed her arms on his shoulders for support. He counted and lifted her with relative ease; positioning her arm over his shoulder and wrapping his other arm around her waist. He walked her with a slow pace back into the compound. Rick and T-dog met them at the door and opened it, allowing the two to go in first. Naomi placed her hand to her head, she was feeling dizzy. She had an IV earlier but she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten something solid; it had been at least two days. Daryl looked at her and noticed the color was draining from her face.

"You okay?" He asked, he didn't need her passing out on him right now.

"I'm just…" She was flustered, "…lightheaded. Haven't eaten."

Daryl looked to Rick, "We still have some dinner left?"

Rick nodded, "I'll get her something to eat."

Daryl looked around, he knew he probably couldn't make it down the long hallways and staircase to get Naomi to Herschel, and besides that, Andrea was being stitched up so that bed was occupied. Most of the cells didn't have fresh bedding on them yet and the closest cell to them was his. He figured it was good as any; she just needed to lie down. Naomi started to slip and Rick jumped on her open side helping out Daryl to carry her.

"Mine's closest," Daryl said to Rick as they began down the hall, "Andrea's up getting sewn up in the sick room so Naomi can use my bed for now. We can move her once she's stronger"

"Sounds like a plan," Rick said.

Daryl and Rick carried her down to the agreed cell and set her down gently on the bed; Daryl shifting her legs up on the mattress being modest with her dress.

T-dog stood at the doorway, "I'm gonna go check on Andrea," he turned and left to do as he said.

"I'll be up," Rick said after T-dog.

Rick ticked his head to the left, signaling Daryl to step out away from Naomi for a moment. Daryl complied, his eyes staying on Naomi till he was out of the door. She was drifting out of consciousness, her eyes fluttering shut. He couldn't get over gorgeous she was. Behind all the dirt, bruises and wounds, she looked like a super model. She was tall like one, her bone structure was lean and defined. If she hadn't been a model before everything went to shit, he would've been surprised.

Rick looked down to the floor at his shoes with the webbing of his thumb and pointer finger resting to his chin. He knew he needed to cover bases with Daryl about the girl but he didn't know how to form his words.

Daryl began in a hushed tone, "We aren't going to kill her," Daryl starred down Rick, "Don't tell me your promise was just a show for everyone."

"My word is good," Rick said, still not making eye contact, "We just… we just need to watch her is all. I'm worried."

"About what?" Daryl raised his brow.

"Well," Rick began, "I'm worried she's might be dangerous."

"Dangerous how?" Daryl said, raising his tone.

Rick held his hand out to quiet him down, "Well, what she did out there shows that she has violent tendencies."

Daryl thought that was bull shit. He didn't see anything wrong with punishing someone who did things that awful to pretty girls, or anyone for that matter. He was a firm supporter of the death penalty, and that's what that fucker deserved in his opinion.

"Bald bastard earned it," Daryl said in defense.

"I just think we need to make sure she doesn't do something like that to someone else, we all know what she's capable of," Rick said.

Daryl's mind fired, "We all know what you're capable and none of us put you on watch."

Rick clenched his jaw, he wasn't expecting a blow that deep. Flashes of Shane came back to his mind. He shook them away as fast as they came on.

Daryl started, "What she did was what she thought would keep her safe, she was only trying to survive. You can't get mad at her for that," Daryl smirked, "Kill the killers before they can kill you."

Rick finally had an understanding of the girl's actions; some of his past choices had been little different than hers. She might have been a little excessive with her methods and had a flair for dramatics, but he couldn't deny that the bald man needed to be executed, for the better of the group.

Rick nodded in response, "I suppose you have a point," Rick placed his hands at his ribs, "I'll go grab a plate for her." Rick turned around and headed down to the cafeteria.

Daryl sighed and walked back to his cell to where the girl was laying down. Her eyes were open and glued on him as he sat his weapon down near the chair in his room.

"Hear anything?" Daryl asked Naomi, realizing her eyes were on him.

"Something about me being dangerous," Naomi smirked.

Daryl found that statement entirely too funny. Naomi was thin and fragile, barely able to stand on her own and the only way she was capable of what she did to the bald man was through revenge; he knew personally how that can fuel anyone to do something out of character. She wasn't physically intimidating, except maybe her height. Daryl thought she was either the same height as him or an inch shorter, he didn't know many women who matched his height at five foot ten. He could however tell she was a fighter. He didn't know how long she had been in the cell all chained up but he knew she had to be strong mentally to hold together long enough to survive. She was tough; but dangerous was a long shot. Daryl sat down in the chair that occupied his room, he figured he might as well talk to the girl until Rick got back with some food.

"How long were you in there, that room?" Daryl asked her.

Naomi thought back to months and days, her sister attempted to keep track of things but they might have been a few days off, "Well when my sister and I stumbled on this place it was Mid-September, if we had our days straight, around the 14th or 15th."

"Well, it's October now," Daryl said, "Andrea's been keeping track of the dates and if she's right it's the 17th."

"A month," She said, "I was in there a month." Naomi couldn't believe that it was true. She felt like it was three months or more, but still, a month was a long time to be chained up in a room. A minute or two of silence passed over them while Naomi tried to recount all the days she had been in there. Daryl watched sadness fill her face, he felt awful. He hated to see someone so beautiful be so miserable. He wanted to tell her that she was gorgeous and if it was possible, take all of her pain away and protect her. He shook his head, what was he thinking? Why did he feel this way about some girl he barely knew? His mind was dissonant, fighting between thoughts of fucking her like an animal and then the guilt of even letting the thought of taking her to bed crossing his mind.

"Wrists feeling better?" he managed to mumble out.

Naomi looked to her wrists, she thought he probably wanted to know if she'd be able to use her hands on him later, "Not really," She said, hoping he'd just let her use her mouth, "I can move my fingers but my wrists still hurt."

"Do you need something for the pain?" Daryl asked, "I might have some Oxy or Vicodin in my brother's stuff."

She was taken aback, the bald man never gave her anything for pain even though her hurt her so bad, "Yeah, I'll take one if you have it spare," She smiled.

"I'll give you a Vicodin, never did shit for me anyway," Daryl said ruffling through his brother's bag. Daryl found the bottle and opened the lid, shaking it onto his palm for a pill. He closed the vial and grabbed a water bottle from a pack on his desk, handing it to Naomi. She grabbed the water bottle eagerly and attempted to open the water, she had just realized how thirsty she was. She struggled with the cap due to the condition of her wrists.

"Here," Daryl said handing her the pill, "Let me open the water," He squatted down beside the bed and opened it without any difficulty then handed the open container to Naomi. She gulped down half of the water bottle before she took a breath.

"Thirsty much?" Daryl chuckled.

Naomi nodded as she tried to catch a breath. She then popped the pill in her mouth and took a swig of water.

"Knock knock," A woman's voice said at the doorway. The woman stepped into the room with a tray in her hands holding a plate and a drink. The plate was full with macaroni and cheese and what looked like fried chicken. Naomi's mouth began to water.

"Come in," Daryl said.

The woman walked over to Naomi; she had long dark wavy hair and her frame was thinner than Naomi's, but not by too much.

"Hello there," The woman began, "I'm Rick's wife, Lori," She said placing the tray on Naomi's lap who was now sitting up, "The food's not the best but it's edible. Me, T-dog and Carol all cooked this meal up," She said smiling.

"Thank you," Naomi grinned as she looked over the plate, taking in the scent of the food.

"Be careful now," Lori warned, "Don't eat too fast or you might lose it all."

Naomi nodded as she took a spoonful of macaroni. She didn't care if this wasn't the best food in the world, right now it was the best meal she had ever had. It was warm and it burned her mouth but she wasn't bothered by that.

"So Rick didn't feel like coming back?" Daryl looked at Lori.

"He went to go check on Andrea so he asked me to bring the food." Lori responded, "I promised Carl I'd only be gone for a couple of minutes so I should get back, Nice to meet you Naomi."

Naomi hurried to swallow her bite, "Nice to meet you too, Lori. Food's wonderful, thank you."

Lori smiled, "I'll let the chef know," then she nodded at Daryl and he acknowledged her back as she turned to leave, Naomi could tell that they weren't the best of friends.

Daryl straightened up his cell while Naomi ate, he felt it would be rude to stare at her and attempting to have a conversation while she ate would be impossible. She attempted to go slow but ended up clearing her plate in about 3 minutes. She dropped her fork on the plate feeling excellent having a full stomach.

"Better?" Daryl asked, taking the tray.

Naomi nodded and smiled. She liked Daryl much better than the bald man. He sat down the empty tray on a small table as she studied his body; he was built and toned. Compared to the bald guy, Daryl was a world class bodybuilder. She could see a power in his muscles that made her tingle. She was torn, on one hand he she couldn't help but to be attracted to him; he was a very good looking man and the more she moved her eyes over him, the more she realized it. On the other hand he was going to use her and regardless of how nice he was being, she knew that she'd have to make it up to him. She was just used to the way things were now; nothing was free anymore, money was no good, and the only way to get services was to trade them.

"Thank you," Naomi said, "I'm so grateful for you and your group. You all are so much nicer."

Daryl smiled, "Well you're safe now with me… us."

He walked to the door and closed it, the heavy doors were a good alarm for walkers and other people in general.

"Mind if I close the curtain a little?" Daryl asked.

"Go ahead," Naomi said as a knot formed in her throat.

Daryl swung the blanket that was constructed as a curtain to cover up three fourths of the door. He didn't like seeing the bars when he slept or while he was in the room so he hung a curtain, made him feel more at home.

Naomi watched him swing the blanket and she started to feel sick. Now was the time that he would take her. She was nervous, she felt as though she was obligated to repay him with how hospitable he had been; she'd have to make sure she was everything he wanted and more. Her throat was becoming dryer and dryer. She felt like she was about to lose her virginity. Naomi breathed in with the thought that she would soon be naked, she hoped all her scars and bruises didn't offend him. She sat up in his bed and brought her right hand to her left shoulder.

Daryl turned around, "Don't really like to look at the bars, ya know…" he trailed off trying to figure out what Naomi was doing.

Her fingertips slid off the loose sleeve of her dress, exposing her shoulder. Daryl froze, he was confused as to what this girl was doing, it was sexy as hell, but extremely confusing. The girl moved her other hand to her opposite shoulder and slid the sleeve down. She closed her eyes and tugged at the collar line of her dress to expose her breasts to him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Daryl protested. He rushed to her and held her hands steady to keep from moving her dress down any further, "The hell are you doing?" He asked.

Naomi was startled, "I just thought…" She tried to formulate her words.

"What?" Daryl looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

"You were being so nice to me," She said, "I thought that this was a… requirement."

Daryl starred at this girl in disbelief, the end of the world had changed her, "That…" He emphasized, "…is never a requirement," he cupped her cheek with his hand.

She smiled and tears began to well from her eyes. She hadn't been treated this well in some time. It never occurred to her that he could just be nice to her without expecting anything in return. She had almost forgotten what things were like before and he only kept reminding her that there was still good people left.

"I'm sorry," She sniffled, "I feel so stupid now."

"Don't," Daryl said pulling her sleeves back onto her shoulders. His fingertips brushed her soft skin as he covered her up, he was starting to feel bad for passing up this opportunity although he wanted her; he would feel terrible if he had her this way. He could almost hear Dale telling him he'd done the right thing and his brother calling him a pussy all at the same time.

"If anyone makes you do that and you don't want to yourself, let me know so I can rough him up," Daryl said, feeling even more pity for this poor creature.

She smiled and looked into his eyes. He returned her smile and brushed a tear from her cheek. Daryl wanted nothing more to take this girl, to kiss her full on the lips; but he couldn't, not after all she had been through.

She felt unworthy of his admirable treatment, "How the hell am I ever gonna repay you for everything you've done?"

Daryl smirked looking at her hands, "Try not to get yourself killed, that would be a good start," he looked back to her eyes, "heal up and then we can find something for you to do around the place. You any good with a weapon?"

Naomi smiled, "Yeah. I did all the hunting before I got here, with my sister," She felt a chill run through her bones.

Daryl noticed that her sister was a sore subject and he didn't want to deal with anymore tears, "What weapons are you good with?"

"Well," She flipped through her memory, "I switch between a bow and arrow for quiet long range kills and then my two machetes," She smiled, "They're really efficient for chopping heads off the undead," She breathed in, "I'm good with a gun but I hate to use them since they're so damn noisy."

Daryl smirked, "Well once you heal up, you can start helping with watch or clearing duties."

Naomi smiled, "Definitely."

A moment of silence passed between the two, Daryl felt tense, he did not know what to say next. She still felt like she needed to show him her gratitude; she smiled and raised her hand up awkwardly. Moving her hand to the side of his face, his bristles tickling her hand; she pulled into him, placing her lips gently to his cheek. He was taken aback by her show of affection not knowing exactly what the proper response was, he smiled.

"Thank you," She said pulling back, starring deeply into his eyes.

He nodded, desperately attempting to distance any sexual thoughts about her from his mind.

"All right," Daryl said coldly, "Get some rest," He stood and sat down in his chair and began to tend to his crossbow.

Naomi thought she had gone too far, maybe he had a wife or girlfriend and her show of affection crossed the line. She mentally beat herself up as she laid her head down onto the pillow, surrendering to the medicine that drifted her body off into a fluid sleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Frostbite

Chapter 4: Frostbite

**A/N. Hello everyone! It's been a while since I last updated. I struggled with this chapter and finding a good flow. Again it's another long one but I really wanted to build some foundation with my OC and the other survivors rather than just Daryl. So here is Chapter 4, Enjoy and don't forget to review, I love reading what you guys think! : )  
Rated M: language, violence, adult themes and content.  
All characters belong to their respective owners.**

_She couldn't sleep, she could feel his eyes on her body; tracing her curves, licking them almost. He was stroking his crossbow, looking at her, devouring her with his eyes. She took nearly as much as she could before she snapped her eyes open. As soon as she looked to him his eyes flicked back to his crossbow he was so lovingly cleaning in his lap. She was infuriated; he wouldn't even acknowledge her awareness. She huffed out in frustration like a bull; he still paid no mind. It felt as though an hour went by before he finally broke the silence._

_"Can't sleep?" He asked, not breaking his concentration._

_"Not a wink," she replied as she stretched. She moved her eyes up to her wrists. Where there was gauze wrapped tightly around bloodied wounds, there was now only untouched skin; she was new again. She searched the rest of her body and yet could not find a single scar or bruise._

_"How?" she remarked._

_"How what?" Daryl replied, still looking at his crossbow._

_"I'm healed," Naomi responded, "I don't have a single mark."_

_The corner of Daryl's mouth curled into a smirk, "It's called a miracle, honey."_

_He looked to her. She could have sworn his eyes could melt._

_She suddenly felt an emptiness in her heart, an ache caused by the fire in this man's icy blues. There was nothing more she needed in this world right now than to touch him; feel every inch of his skin._

_His mouth began to water. The way her red hair ignited in the moonlight streaking in from the corner of pulled curtain; she was beautiful. He had an inherent need to feel her body pressed tightly against his._

_"Come here," Naomi beckoned, swinging her legs over the side of his bed._

_Daryl's breathing became deep, almost a growl, "No," He responded, "You come here."_

_Naomi arched her back and rolled her head around stretching her neck as if begging him to kiss it. He held his open hand toward her; she stood slowly and placed her palm to his fluidly swinging herself over his outstretched leg as he moved his crossbow to the floor. She lowered her body down to his lap as he moved his hands around the small of her back. Naomi's arms moved like magnets, wrapping around his broad shoulders._  
_He needed her._  
_Now._

_"What is this, Daryl?" Naomi spoke softly._

_"Shh…" He said placing a finger to her lips._

_"What are we doing?" She whispered._

_"Just shut up and take your dress off," He replied._

_His remark turned her on, he knew what she wanted._  
_Him._  
_She wrapped her arms around her hips and slid her dress off and up around her head, tossing it to the floor. He admired the way her breasts looked in the moonlight, her pale skin glinting through. She was pure in every sense of the word._

_"So are you going to fuck me then or what?" Naomi smirked, leaning in close to his lips; He could feel the pull._

_"Oh, I ain't gonna fuck you," Daryl said tickling his breath on her neck, "I'm gonna take my time. I'm gonna love you."_

* * *

A slam startled him awake. 'Fuck' he mumbled in his mind. The daylight was shining through the curtain, spottily lighting the room. He looked to Naomi who was still fast asleep. He breathed a small sigh of relief. It was only a dream but damn, he wished he could have waited a few more minutes before waking up. He took a deep breath in and stretched his arms upward; his whole body was stiff from falling asleep in his chair. He wiggled around, feeling particularly uncomfortable in his jeans. 'Shit' he mouthed as he threw his hand down his pants to adjust the increased blood flow. 'Christ, I'm so hard I think I've popped all the wrinkles out,' he thought to himself. He chuckled to himself remembering the quote from some stand-up comedian he had seen on TV.

Daryl stood up and rested his crossbow on the floor beside him. He had fallen asleep with it in his lap which wasn't out of the ordinary. He stood and moved to the curtain, lightly tugging it a few inches to see where the sun was in the sky. By his guess, it was around ten or eleven in the morning. His eyes squinted to focus as he looked to see where the noise had come from. He then observed Andrea trotting down the hall, her gun slung over her back. She looked happy almost.

She slowed her pace down at Daryl's cell and stopped to talk, her hand resting to her hip, "Hey there cowboy," She smirked, "Mind if I come in?"

"Yeah," Daryl grumbled, "Don't call me cowboy."

Andrea raised her hands up as if to surrender, "Sorry Daryl, I just want to see how our new friend's holding up."

Daryl grumbled and swung the curtain open as well as the door. This loud noise finally woke up Naomi who began rubbing her eyes.

"Good morning," Andrea said as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

Naomi's vision was adjusting, "Hey," she said.

"Sleep well?" Andrea asked.

Naomi smiled, "Yeah, had some weird dreams though," She chuckled.

"Well," Andrea said, "You can tell me all about them today while we get you cleaned up. I'd bet money that you'd be pretty pumped for a shower and some new clothes?"

Naomi hadn't heard that word in ages, "Yes," She was so relieved to finally wash off; she realized she probably smelled terrible.

"All right then," Andrea began as she stood up, "Well Daryl, I'll take her from here," Andrea spoke to Daryl as though she were asking permission.

Daryl moved over to one end of the cell to gather some things. He couldn't figure out why she was talking to him this way, asking him. He wasn't this girl's keeper; he just felt pity for her. The more he thought about his volunteering to take care of her, the more he mentally beat himself up for showing weakness. He just thought maybe he could help her.

"Don't worry, I'll have her back by dinner," Andrea joked.

Daryl rolled his eyes, "You're talking like she belongs to me or something," he looked to Naomi, "She don't, so let's get that straight right now," Daryl grabbed his crossbow and bag then began to walk out of the cell.

"Got it, Dinner!" Andrea said playfully after him.

"Don't care!" Daryl shouted back down the hallway.

Andrea smirked, "So, how are you feeling anyway?"

Naomi thought, "Like I got hit by a train," She grinned, "But it could always be worse."

Andrea smiled back at her. Naomi had finally noticed the white bandages covering her cheek where she had been cut by the man and for some reason Naomi felt guilty about it, as though she were responsible.

"How are you holding up?" Naomi asked; nodding towards Andrea's wound.

Andrea's hand moved to the wound reflexively, cupping her cheek, "It's doing okay. Probably going to have a nasty scar but I'll live," She smiled back weaker.

Naomi furrowed her brow, "Sorry about that,"

Andrea looked to her completely bewildered, "Why are you apologizing? Compared to you I stubbed my toe."

The two women chuckled about her quip.

"All right enough talking," Andrea stood from the bed, "Let's get you up and to the showers, get you all cleaned up."

Naomi smiled as Andrea placed her arms gently around her to help her up. Naomi winced in pain at her feeble attempt of movement; she hadn't realized how much pain she was still in until she attempted to get up.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," Andrea stopped for a moment to pull off her duffel bag from over her shoulder. She pulled out a breakfast bar along with a bottle of water and a plastic bag with different pills in it, "I almost forgot, you should probably eat this first and then take these."

Naomi obliged happily eating the bar, some sort of fruit she thought and then looked over the pills, "Amoxicillin and more Vicodin, good choices,"

"You know what these are?" Andrea asked, slightly curious as to her knowledge by just glancing at the markings.

"Yeah," Naomi smiled, "I use to work at a pharmacy before everything went to hell. The black and pink pills are Amoxicillin," Naomi prodded the medication in her hand, "And these are the Vicodin."

"Huh," Andrea smiled, "I'll have to let Rick and Herschel know about your drug skills."

"I'd be glad to help in any way I can," Naomi replied popping the pills following with a swig of water.

They sat and chatted idly for about twenty minutes until the medication had allowed itself to flow into Naomi's blood stream, effectively numbing her pain to allow her to walk without every shift and movement feeling like she was made of glass.

Although Naomi felt confident enough, Andrea helped her make the long walk to the showers. Passing through the corridors, they walked by a rough looking woman. She had dark olive skin with long, black hair arranged in dreadlocks. Her features were strong as was her build; she was the exact opposite of Naomi. Her face looked as it was always in a scowl.

Andrea smiled and nodded as she passed, "Good morning," She said.

"Morning," She replied as she continued to move by, she was not interested in meeting the new visitor.

As they passed further Naomi couldn't help but feel that they would not be very good friends, "Who was that?" Naomi asked when they were out of earshot of the woman.

"Michonne," Andrea said with a smile, "She takes a while to get used to but once you get past her exterior she's a really nice person."

"She didn't seem much interested in meeting me," Naomi said defensively.

"Well, give her time," Andrea said shaking her head. This girl was reminding her of Amy the more she got to know her. She was stubborn like her and defensive; she could tell that Michonne not stopping to say hello had hurt her feelings.

"Hey," Andrea began softly, "Don't take it personally."

"I wasn't," Naomi replied calmly.

There was the stubborn. Andrea sighed.

They arrived at the shower room which was empty but traces of cold water still lingered around the floor in puddles. A wooden chair had been brought in early that morning with towels placed on it in preparation for Naomi. Andrea arranged the chair directly under one of the shower heads and helped Naomi move to it as well as get situated. She helped her take her dress and panties off and throw them over a wall. Naomi shivered; the cold had made way to her bones.

"Okay," Andrea started by turning on the water, "This is only going to be lukewarm but it's better than nothing."

Naomi nodded, she had her arms crossing her chest, and her legs squeezed tight. Even though she had been through so much she still had a level of modesty drilled into her being that she could not escape.

Andrea aimed the showerhead to hit Naomi's hair; the spray of water jolted Naomi's body into a shock. Andrea giggled quietly at her reaction. She pulled out some shampoo she had in her bag and lathered her mane; she was having difficulties pulling her fingers through due to the sheer amount of matting.

"Sorry if I'm pulling your hair," Andrea said.

Naomi wasn't tender headed and this did not bother her, "No, you're fine," She replied. She was grateful to finally have soap in her hair.

Andrea was amazed by the amount of dirt and grime washing its way out of her locks and down the drain. It reminded her of home box dye. Amy had gone through a phase of wanting to dye her hair brunette when she was in high school and Andrea would always help her apply then wash it out. She could see Naomi's tresses actually returning to a lighter red as the water got clearer.

"It smells so good," Naomi moaned. She couldn't remember the last time she had smelled something nice, well, besides Daryl. Her mind was sent reeling into the brief memories she had of him and the way he smelled; like fresh pine and hard work.

"You okay there, Sally?" Andrea chuckled.

"Sally?" Naomi asked back confusedly.

"I'll have what she's having?" Andrea smiled, "You know, Harry Met Sally?"

"Oh," Naomi laughed, gripping her reference, "Was I doing that?"

Andrea grinned, "A little,"

"I haven't smelled anything but piss and shit and death for a month so this is nice," Naomi said, "Thank you."

Andrea remembered that she had a couple of special travel size bottles of expensive conditioner she had taken on a raid that she was saving for a special occasion. She figured that she could spare one for this poor girl who was basically reaching a climax over some shampoo. She'd probably have a heart attack over the conditioner. Andrea walked over to her bag and dug out the small bottle.

"Got this fancy conditioner I'm gonna use in your hair, you need it," Andrea said opening the bottle.

"Are you sure?" Naomi asked, "That looks, like you were saving it. I don't want to-"

"Nope," Andrea cut her off, "This is gonna happen." She began to lather the conditioner into her hair turning it into a silky length.

"Thank you," Naomi grinned, "You've done so much for me. I'm so thankful for you guys finding me and all."

Andrea smiled back, lost in concentration of getting this girl's hair soft and beautiful, "Well, you've done a lot for me. It's only fair."

"I don't feel like I've been much of a help," Naomi muttered.

Andrea thought for a moment, "You got rid of that bastard that tried to kill me for one."

Naomi shuddered at the mention of him, "Well, I think I scared everyone when I did."

Andrea scoffed, "Maybe, but it needed done."

She shifted in the chair uncomfortably, "I've never done anything like that before. It felt like I wasn't in control of my actions."

Andrea smirked, "It was kind of badass from where I was watching."

Naomi shifted her gaze downward, "I feel guilty about what I did."

"How?" She said beginning to rinse the conditioner.

"Everything that I did, felt right," Naomi twiddled her fingers, "I didn't realize until after it was over that what I had done was no better than what he did to me."

"He deserved it," Andrea said flatly.

"Yeah… but… I don't…" She stuttered.

Andrea finished washing the conditioner out and she kneeled down to meet her eyes with Naomi's, "There's no use in feeling bad about it. What's done is done and it needed to happen," She smiled at her.

Naomi looked at her, absorbing in her advice. It reminded her deeply of her older sister, always there for her, giving her advice and making her feel better about stupid things she shouldn't feel bad about in the first place. Naomi smiled back, too sure that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glossing over giving too much away. Andrea turned to grab up the body wash, she had to, she could see too much of Amy in Naomi's eyes.

Andrea regained her composure and opened the bottle of soap, "So, now comes the awkward part," She joked. Andrea picked up a sponge and poured on the soap, placing it under the stream and rubbing it into a lather.

"I could give it a try," Naomi said.

Andrea nodded and handed her the soapy sponge.

Naomi began to carefully pull the sponge over her skin, beginning with her shoulders. Her collarbone was jutting out. Naomi always thought that a well defined collarbone was a thing of beauty but now she thought it looked sickly, she wasn't far off. She was careful when she met the few scabbed cuts around her upper body. The bald man never cut her breasts and she was thankful for that but a few times the knife had flicked her neck; that was usually foreplay. She drew the sponge down her arms.

"Careful," Andrea said watching her movements, "Don't worry about your wrists. Herschel needs to change the bandages so you can skip that."

Naomi nodded and complied. She moved to her stomach which wasn't much damaged at all, her ribs were more exposed then she had ever seen them. She hated looking thin to the point that someone could mistake her for a cancer patient. It wasn't healthy. Naomi moved to her hips and realized that next she would have to get in between her legs. She wanted that clean more than anything but she wanted to save that for last; she didn't want to contaminate the sponge before she could cleanse the rest of her body.

"I can get your back," Andrea said, "And your legs so you don't have to bend down."

Naomi nodded and handed her the sponge. Andrea drew it over her back which had more bruises than scars. Andrea didn't want to find out details as to how she had bruises on her back. She then moved down to her legs, careful not to go too high. Naomi jerked every time the sponge ran too far up her legs.

"You want to get that part?" Andrea asked.

"Yeah," Naomi realized it was due time.

Andrea nodded and handed her the sponge taking a few steps away and turning her back to the visibly uncomfortable girl trying to give her a bit of privacy. Naomi slowly opened her legs, terrified as to how she looked down there. She knew this is where most of her damage was. She looked at her inner thighs; they were bruised in solid blacks, blues, and yellows. It looked like someone had dropped a bowling ball on each leg, it felt that way too. There were dozens of scattered cuts littering the bruises, some were recent, and others scabbed over. Her pores had attempted to let some of the pressure from internal bleeding and clotting raise to the surface and there were small speckles of scabbed blood sprinkled around. The skin around her woman hood was purple, mostly from force. He kept the blade mostly to her inner thighs, not wanting to ruin his outlet.

Naomi's arms rose in Goosebumps, she had never been this violated before. She scrubbed gently as her face began to crumble. Even though there was no sexual undertone to this, it was purely hygienic, she felt desecrated and she didn't want to look or touch herself. It hurt on every level. Physically it stung and emotionally it was sending her into hysterics. 'I'm dirty', she thought, dirty dirty dirty. No amount of soap could wash it off. She collapsed into her chair sobbing and dropped the sponge to the ground.

Andrea turned and walked hastily to her. She instinctively threw her arms around the panic-stricken girl; her sounds were that of pure loss. Mourning for the peace of mind she would never get back. She was damaged.

"Shh…" Andrea ran her hand over Naomi's hair trying to calm her down. She couldn't imagine how bad she was hurting right now, "You're alive and safe and that'll heal."

Naomi sniffled, "I'll never be the same, Andrea. I'll never be clean again."

Andrea pursed her lips, "You won't be the same, you're right," she shifted her weight to be more comfortable and look Naomi in the eyes, "It wasn't your fault what happened and you can't let him make you feel that way. You have to find your own reason to keep going, no matter what that is." The girl's sobs had quieted, "It's gonna hurt, but you've gotta find that reason to keep going and then hang onto it."

Naomi's eyes were glossed over but her breathing had returned to a normal pace, "You're getting wet." Andrea had not noticed the water spraying at her back.

"Oh," Andrea chuckled moving out of the way, "Thanks."

Naomi let a faint smile paint her face.

"Why don't we get you rinsed off and get you in some clothes, then we can talk," Andrea said changing the subject.

Naomi nodded.

Andrea did so, not speaking, everything done methodically. She switched the shower off and helped her to dry, "These are a pair of Lori's jeans that don't fit her very well," Andrea started off, "She's pretty tall like you so these should fit. Here, put these on first." Andrea said handing Naomi a bra and a package of underwear that looked unopened, "That pack is yours," she smiled.

Naomi slipped on a pair of the simple white cotton panties and the bra with help from Andrea then pulled the jeans over carefully. They were loose on her frame but they were clothes.

"Here are some of…" Andrea stuttered, "…Of my sister's old shirts. I thought you could see which one you wanted to wear."

"Your sister?" Naomi asked, not remembering any mention of a sister, "Is she… here?"

Andrea swallowed the hard lump in her throat, "No, not anymore," Naomi didn't need any further words to understand that she had passed. Andrea gave Naomi the few shirts she had in her hand. She looked through the shirts with great care and found a simple pink tank top with some silver graphic overlaid.

Andrea stared at her, "You can have those shirts,"

"Are you sure?" Naomi sputtered, "I don't want-"

"It's okay," Andrea said, not wanting to reveal that she had held one of Amy's shirts back for sentimental value.

"If they find me and my sister's things, you're more than welcome to some of her clothes. I mean they're probably around here somewhere."

"Oh don't worry about it," Andrea packed up things, throwing the wet items in a plastic bag to take to the laundry room. She slung the duffel bag over her shoulder as well as her shotgun.

"C'mon, let's get you to Herschel," Andrea said helping the girl out of the room.

They walked at a slow pace down the hallways to Herschel's hospital room, a few moments of silence passed before Naomi mustered up the courage to ask more about Andrea's sister.

"What was her name?" Naomi looked to Andrea who was desperately trying to fight from crumbling.

"Amy," Andrea smiled feebly, "What about your sister?"

"Audrey," Naomi said in response, "You remind me of her."

* * *

_She was at work doing her normal routine, filling up the bays with amber vials and white lids for filling prescriptions. The phone rang as she poured the last bag of large lids into the bottom drawer._

_"Naomi, line one," Her co-worker said._

_Naomi stood up, pushing the boxes of vials to the side, dusted off her pants and reached for the phone._

_"This is Naomi," She said in her professional voice._

_"Naomi," She heard her sister, "Naomi, when do you get off work?" she sounded worried._

_"Um, in thirty minutes. Why?" Naomi was wondering what her sister what going on about._

_"You need to come home," Audrey commanded, "Now."_

_"What's going on?"_

_"It's here," Audrey said, "Raid what you can from the store quickly and get home. I've already got the car loaded up."_

_"Where are we going?" Naomi felt as though her heart was being ripped out and adrenaline was being poured into her body. She was sure her hands were shaking._

_"Away," Audrey said flatly, "Our safe house."_

_Naomi looked around, everyone was calm. She couldn't figure out how to make her legs move, she was scared._

_"Okay," Naomi said._

_"Hurry," Audrey added, "They're putting up road blocks as we speak."_

* * *

"You okay?" Andrea asked as Naomi's thoughts halted.

"Yeah," She smiled weakly, "I'm fine."

They approached Herschel's room which had another small crowd around already waiting for the girl. Lori was standing back against one of the walls smiling next to Maggie and another young blonde girl not more than seventeen that resembled Maggie, she assumed the blonde and Maggie were sisters because of their similar features.

"Hello," Naomi said to the three women.

"How do the jeans fit?" Lori asked.

"Very nice, thank you," Naomi responded with a smile.

"How are you feeling?" Maggie asked.

"Better," She said.

The blonde girl looked at her feet for most of the conversation. Andrea helped her into the cell where Herschel was standing over a table with gauze and other sorts of simple medical supplies laid out.

"Feeling okay today?" Herschel asked.

"I'm holding on," Naomi smiled back.

Maggie stepped into the cell to help her father. They shifted around the girl changing her bandages and asking her simple questions. Herschel administered more medication for the pain.

"Dad?" Maggie whispered to Herschel, "Can we talk real quick outside?"

Herschel nodded as they went outside and spoke in hushed tones. Andrea set beside Naomi distracting her by asking her about what sort of music she likes.

"Everything," Naomi responded, "I'm a huge fan of folk music. Rock, punk, anything really," Naomi smiled; she loved music, "What about you?"

Andrea smiled, "I'm kind of the same way, eclectic. I listened to a lot of talk radio actually, NPR you know. But when I was listening to music I really enjoyed anything."

"Favorite band?" Naomi asked.

"I would have to say-"

Herschel and Maggie walked into the room, his head down. He nodded to Maggie then pointed to his small cabinet. Maggie pulled out a package of something then walked over to Naomi.

Maggie was stern, "I'm gonna give this to you, and you can decide what to do with it. If you do take it," She was having trouble with this moral grey area, "I won't judge you." She handed Naomi the package, "I won't agree, but you have the option."

Naomi flipped the flat and small package in her hand; she knew immediately what it was without slipping it out. The familiar rattle of pills gave it away.

"Am I?" Naomi asked; she wasn't quite sure how to feel at the moment.

"Too early to tell," Herschel said, "You'll find out soon enough. When was the last time you had your cycle?"

Naomi flipped through her memories, "A couple days before I got here."

"Well you're due for another one," He added, "We'll wait and see. If nothing happens we've got a few tests that you can take in a week."

Naomi nodded, still void of any emotion. She just felt alone, nothing more. She didn't want to have a child this way. No one in their right mind would.

"Andrea, we should probably change that gauze while you're here," Herschel said.

Naomi stood from the bed slowly to allow Andrea to be checked out, she sat in a chair in the cell. She tried desperately not to think about the possibilities of being pregnant, it made her skin crawl. She always wanted to do things the "right" way. Meet a nice man, get married, then have a child. She didn't think she had it in her to be a mother, especially during this hell.

A door shut from the end of the hallway and a locking noise rang through. Naomi leaned forward to see who was passing through; she looked to see Lori's face which lit up. It must be Rick, she thought to herself. She saw the lean man hug his wife, sprinkling kisses on her cheek.

Naomi then saw him. The man who had been so nice to her, the man whom she didn't know if she had crossed a line with. He wasn't sprinkling kisses on anyone. No, he was looking at Naomi who's gaze was pulled right back into his. It felt as though his eyes had hers in a gravitational pull. She smiled at him, a quiet smile but a friendly one nonetheless. His eyes broke contact as he looked uninterested towards the floor. Her heart sank, she had done something wrong. She felt right in her assumptions that he already had someone.

Rick moved over to the room with Lori, careful not to crowd Herschel, "How y'all doing today?" He asked genuinely.

"All right," Andrea mumbled as Herschel continued to change her gauze.

"How about you, Naomi?" Rick nodded his head down toward the girl.

She wanted to be left alone at the moment, "I'm okay." She said quietly.

"Good," Rick said with a smile, "What's on the dinner menu Lori?"

"Well, I thought some Italian might be good tonight," Lori smirked, "T-dog and Carol are whipping up spaghetti tonight."

Naomi felt her stomach grumble, she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"Well Daryl and I are gonna stop in for a quick lunch and then clear out a few more rooms," Rick said.

"There are sandwiches left over in the cafeteria," Lori smiled.

Naomi perked up wanting to eat one.

"You eaten?" Daryl said, pointing to Naomi, noticing her look of hunger.

"I haven't," Naomi said, "Not since breakfast."

Daryl looked to Andrea looking for an explanation from her.

"We just finished the shower, that took a while," Andrea mumbled.

"Stop talking," Herschel commanded gently.

"Sorry," She responded.

"You need to eat," Daryl said to Naomi, "You're skin and bones right now."

Daryl looked her over; she looked different after her shower. Her hair was beginning to dry into a messy wave of scarlet frizz. She looked much better in jeans and a shirt rather than the ratty white night gown she was kept in. Although he could now see her bones protruding out more than he could before. He wasn't much one for skinny girls. He liked them with some meat on their bones; the average American girl with a nice ass. Even though she was too skinny for his tastes in women, he found her stunning. He thought to himself that he might lose his mind if she gained about thirty pounds.

"C'mon," He said approaching her, he tried to keep his sexual thoughts tucked away, "I'll help you down there."

Naomi smiled at him as he helped her up; it was nice to feel his arms around her again. For a moment she forgot about her worries. She found comfort there, she found peace.


End file.
